Of Recordings and Prison Rendezvouses
by Diary
Summary: Angus dies, Luke's response to pizza is an urge to cross himself, and Damian has something up his sleeve. Complete.


Disclaimer: I do not own As the World Turns.

* * *

"I remember you almost lost one match," Angus says, not looking up from the chessboard. "So busy looking at your opponent."

"I owe you eleven years, Angus, and that's how many minutes you get," Reid answers, setting the timer and sitting down across from his uncle.

"I know about that boy," Angus says, making a move. "Always knew you liked blonds, but I never had to worry about you going for the younger ones."

"It would be a bad idea for you to go near Luke."

"That's his name?"

"You're only wasting your time here."

"Hmm," Angus mutters. "You were sixteen when he was born. He hadn't even been conceived when you were so struck with the one at the chess match."

"If you're insistent on wasting your time, could you, at least, do it quietly?"

Angus looks up. "How do you see this ending, Reid? The fact you hate me doesn't change the fact I know you. I remember how shy you used to be. I remember the pizza delivery boy was blond, too, and you'd stand there looking at him with big eyes while he joked about you not being able to talk. I remember how you insulted that opponent's mother. Do you remember what colour of hair he had?"

"I'm starting to think you have a point to all this. Get to it."

"My point is," Angus says, "that when I die, I don't want some do-gooder kid using my money to help causes I don't believe in. And you've always thought you're more invulnerable than you are. You never had a boyfriend growing up, because everyone knew, it was impossible not to with how unsubtle you were, but to hell if you'd never man up and admit that you were queer. When you stopped being so damn quiet, every word out of your mouth was an attack."

"Gee, I wonder where I could have learned that. And for the other thing: we both know you're not leaving anything to me. If you did, I'd sell it, donate it, or send it to some other unfortunate soul on our family tree."

"You haven't changed much, kid. Oh, you're subtler, and you might be braver. But you're still an idiot."

He looks up. "Here's how it'll play: This little blond boy is going to have his fun with you; it may last a year or two or three, if you're lucky. Then, someone his age is going to come around. Someone not obsessed with brains, someone who doesn't have to rush off at odd times, someone who doesn't work hours no sensible person would if they didn't have to. This person is going to be sociable and not have odd rituals involving toothbrushes and the angle of their shoes."

"Yeah, I know," Reid says. "He was already in love that person. That person is why we met. You have six more minutes, but could we just call it quits?"

Angus laughs, bitterly. "So, this boy doesn't even have a chance of loving you."

"He does love me," Reid answers. Shrugging, he continues, "You're probably right, Angus."

"Luke's a romantic. He's sentimental. And he just got out of a toxic, destructive relationship. I'm so different from what he's known that, in an bizarre way, I'm safe. So what? Until now, I've never been in love, and life is so short sometimes. Sometimes, it's very short. I wish I'd talked to that pizza delivery boy. I wish I'd shaken that opponent's hand instead of insulting his mother. No more. I told him I wasn't going to lose him, and I won't, not without a fight. But if I do, at least, I can't blame myself for not giving it everything I could. Two minutes."

"You'll end up hating him just like you did chess."

Reid pauses for a moment.

Then, "No, I won't. Putting aside the fact I don't hate chess, I just refuse to compete, this is different. My love for Luke involves him and me. It's not something I'm being forced to do so that you or anyone else can profit from it. And even if someone does try to exploit it, Luke is so much more than pieces of metal on a board. He's worth almost anything."

The timer dings.

Reid walks away without another word.

…

"Reid," Luke asks, tentatively, "are you sure you this is a good idea? I mean, from what I understand, there was no love lost, but I don't think the lawyer would keep calling if it were just some useless junk. At the least, it might be a house or a car."

"I don't do houses, and according to you, Bob, and Oakdale's boys in blue, I'm a master at grand theft auto," he answers, finishing his pizza. "And Angus came close to permanently damaging my hand when I refused to continue playing chess."

"You love playing chess," Luke says, confused and horrified at the thought of someone hurting Reid in such a way.

"I love playing chess with you," Reid corrects.

"Reid," he says, sitting down on the couch and pressing himself against Reid, "what all happened between you and your uncle?"

"It doesn't matter. He's dead. Is my lack of grief offending your-"

Cutting him off, Luke takes both of his hands and kisses one after the other. "You don't have to tell me; I just hate the thought of you having to rely on someone who hurt you, and then, going out into the world and never wanting to rely on anyone."

"It wasn't that bad," Reid says with a sigh. "Technically, I don't know Angus's intent. When I walked out of a chess tournament, he pressed one of the pieces into my hand until tears appeared. I don't know why I didn't just move my damn hand or kick him or something. In less than an hour, the mark had faded, and I could move my hand without problem. It's just-" He hesitates. "For a long time, I had phantom pains in that hand, and as much as I tried not to be, when I had my first surgery, I was half-afraid it'd start shaking. It didn't, and the pain's never come back."

"Which one?"

Reid flexes his left hand.

Making sure to be very careful, Luke takes it in both of his. "So, when you went to Boston last week, he never apologised or tried to clear the air?"

"Nope," Reid says, closing his eyes as Luke massages the hand, tracing gentle fingers over it. "It was a typical conversation. He implied he'd changed his will to include me, and I told him he shouldn't bother."

"I really think you should go. You could show me around."

Opening his eyes, Reid shakes his head. "You really think this is important, don't you?"

"I think, if it's something significant, you deserve to, at least, know about it," he answers. "And even if it's not, maybe I could help you make one or two really good memories to associate with there," he says, grinning mischievously.

"For that alone, I'll go," Reid says, shifting.

Luke crawls onto his lap, hands going for his hair.

…

"Doctor Oliver," the lawyer says, offering her hand, "thank you for coming. I'm sorry for your loss."

"I didn't lose anything," Reid answers, refusing to shake her hand.

"Reid," Luke scolds. Shaking her hand, he says, "Mrs O'Hara, it's nice to meet you. I'm Luke Snyder, Doctor Oliver's boyfriend, and I apologise for him. He doesn't have much use for niceties on a good day, and he and Angus didn't have a good relationship."

"Yeah, I sort of got that impression from both Angus and his repeated rejection of my calls," she answers. "Could I just talk to you?"

"Reid-" Luke starts, looking over.

"I'm fine with such an arrangement."

"That'd probably be best, then," Luke agrees.

"Please, sit down, gentleman."

"Do I have to?"

Reaching over, Luke pulls Reid down into one of the chairs.

"Shortly before he was diagnosed, Angus won an ungodly amount at the racetrack. Or that's what he told me. I don't think legal bets would yield this much, but my second cousin twice removed is in the local mob. He hasn't given me a call, so, it's not that. And since Angus hasn't left the city in over eight years- Look, I have a kid who needs braces, a car that my other kid has almost wrecked three times while learning to drive, and a grandbaby that no one is prepared for. I just want my ten percent fee so that I can go on helping all the people around here who can't afford freakin' bread."

"So, anyway, he hasn't touched the money since he got it. Until almost two weeks ago, he refused to give me an answer on what to do with it. Then, Doctor Oliver," she nods towards Reid, "came, and later in the day, Angus had me list him as the sole beneficiary in the will."

Pushing a paper across the table, she continues, "I'm only supposed to give this to Doctor Oliver, but I obviously can't stop you if you happen to pick it up before I realise what's happening."

"Right," Luke says, picking the paper up. He looks at it and says, "Holy- Reid," he says, shoving it over, "look at this. It's insane."

Reid does. "Are you absolutely sure this isn't mob-related," he inquires when he looks up from the paper.

She shrugs. "I called Billy, the idiot twice removed second cousin. He can't lie worth shit, and he had no idea who Angus even was."

Continuing, she says, "So, if you could just sign that and several other papers, we could be done. My youngest kid has ballet at seven; thankfully, I have a sort bribing/blackmailing thing going on with the instructor, so, that doesn't cost money, at least."

…

As Reid arranges their shoes, Luke asks, "What are you going to do?"

He looks at the chess piece and the timer, the two things besides the money Angus had specifically left for Reid.

Lying down on the bed, Reid answers, "I'm going to email Samuel and start the process of having a fund of some kind for Austin set up. Then, your foundation is going to have even more money to waste on causes neither Angus nor I agree with."

Luke crawls into bed and represses the thrill at the fact he and Reid are sharing a hotel room, sharing a bed. The latter isn't completely new, although, more often than not, sex doesn't equal spending the night, which he's not sure if that's a logical consequence of having a neurosurgeon boyfriend or something he needs to worry about, but this is something real couples do.

"Okay," he says, "yes, to the first, definitely. Absolutely not to the second."

Austin is Reid's distantly related, sixteen-year-old cousin. His father is a single parent, and while his mom does pay child support, Luke knows college must be a concern. Even if Austin doesn't go, if the fund is used responsibly, it could be a big help in letting Austin find his place in life.

"Angus left it to me," Reid answers. "You have no legal say."

"On any other way you use the money, no, I don't, but I do have the power to refuse donations and otherwise reject money," he retorts.

"Why would you? I don't need the money, and if you have some moral objection to me deliberately doing something that you know would piss Angus off, I have to tell you-"

"It would be a huge conflict of interest."

"How?"

"Reid."

"Okay, let's say we don't work out. Do you I strike you as the type of person who's going to bring money into things? I want the money gone. I don't need it, I don't want it, and we both know that if you don't accept it for the foundation, you're going to spend weeks researching different charities, due to the thought of me just randomly giving it away being too much to bear."

"What about the neurowing?"

"Of which is largely funded by the foundation? I'm not giving the money to Hank. And Jacob already has a decent college fund set up."

"You could give it to Mrs O'Hara," he half-jokes.

"She's already getting a thirty percent fee."

Sighing, Luke says, "It just seems- like I'd be taking advantage of you."

"You have enough money to kidnap a world-class neurosurgeon on your private jet, Ritchie Rich. Aside from that, your adoring grandmother is independently wealthy, your mother co-owns a successful, upscale hotel, your father is well off, and then, there's bad dad, who likely still has a large chunk of wealth hidden somewhere. Technically, I'm in the lower-rich percentile, but compare my bank statement to yours, and mine looks like pocket change. Tell me, exactly how are you taking advantage of me by accepting the donation?"

"If I weren't your boyfriend, you'd care more about finding out where you actually wanted the money to go."

"Wrong," Reid says, firmly. "I want the money to go away. And if you weren't my boyfriend, I'd hire Mrs O'Hara to decide which charities it should go to. Despite her disturbing ability to bend the rules and her comfort with the local mob, I think she could be trusted not to give it to neo-Nazis, Seventh-day Adventists, or Channing."

Luke's quiet for a long moment. "Well, it won't hurt to sit there while I talk to some people, and if I need to, I'll start researching charities."

Before Reid can answers, he props himself up and leans down to kiss Reid. "Want to start forming pleasant associations with this hotel, Doctor Oliver?"

Reid groans and reaches toward him.

…

"Take the money, Luciano," his grandmother orders over the phone while Reid is in the shower.

"Grandmother," he says, irritably, "not everything is about business."

"No, I suppose not," she says. "Fine, darling, I'm sorry if this upsets you, but I'm bringing up Noah. One of the problems you and he had is that you always wanted to help him, and he didn't want your help. You and Doctor Oliver are adults. He knows his own mind very well and can be trusted in saying he doesn't the money. If he wanted to, he could use it to further advance his field of medicine, and in a way that is what he's doing. Instead of retaining his uncle's lawyer or hiring a financial planner, in a sense, he's enlisting you for help."

"You know to play dirty, Grandmother," he comments. "Okay, no matter how I try, I can't guarantee all the money is specifically used towards medicine, especially towards the neurological wing. And I've told him this, but he said he didn't care."

"Look at this way, sweetheart: His wing is rather firmly linked with the foundation," she answers. "Even if the two part in the future, the history is going to be readily available. What the foundation does, the causes it champions beyond medicine, will always be vaguely associated with the wing, and if you accept the money, him. He may not understand some of the causes you advocate, but I sincerely doubt he'd be giving the money to you to use if had any true objections to any of them."

Reid comes out, and Luke feels his mouth go dry, suddenly wishing he'd accepted the offer to shower together. "Grandmother, I, uh, need to go. I'll talk to you, later."

"You are using protection, aren't you?"

"Goodbye, Lucinda," he orders, feeling his face heat up and taking in Reid's amused smirk at this fact. "I love you."

With that, he quickly hangs up.

"What did she say," Reid inquires, stretching.

"To take the money, which you already knew," he answers, trying to quell his lust.

"So did you."

"I thought I could talk some sense into her."

"How'd that work for you?"

"If you want to make a donation to the foundation, I won't try to block it."

Reid smirk increases, and Luke shakes his head. "Smart ass," he mutters.

"Strangely, after you stopped needing time, I've learned exactly how much you appreciate that particular part of me," Reid answers, causing Luke to hide his face and take a deep breath. "You want to talk a walk around town, see how many people are happy to tell you, in detail, all the embarrassing parts of my childhood?"

Shocked, Luke looks up. "Seriously?"

"Why not? I've never been kidnapped, dealt with a serial killer, or any of the ridiculous stuff you and the other residents of Oakhell have been subjected to, but I pissed enough people off as a kid, got into a bit of trouble."

"Okay," he agrees, feeling a burst of warmth. "Let's go."

…

His hand is in Reid's, and they're walking around.

Now isn't the time for insecurity, he knows. He should be fully enjoying the feel of his boyfriend's hand in his as they walk around.

Come on, Snyder, what more do you want, he demands. He was willing to give up his wing for you before either sex or 'I love yous' entered the picture. He's told you he loved you. He tells you every day.

Some part thinks, And what about when he realises?

When he realises what? That you have kidney problems? The reason why you have kidney problems? That you were kicked out of college, and why? About Brian and the Zs? If he doesn't realise after the little fact of you telling him all of the above, there are some much bigger problems in play.

"You're a million miles away," Reid comments, rubbing his finger against Luke's thumb.

Don't bring up Noah, he tells himself.

"I'm just trying to take everything in," he says, smiling and squeezing Reid's hand. "Where are we going first?"

"Pizza," Reid declares.

"Why am I not surprised?"

They go to a nice-sized pizzeria and stand in line.

Then, he hears, "Reid Oliver?"

A plumb man with white, balding hair and glasses appears. He smiles, which doesn't give Luke a good feeling about them getting out without someone getting punched.

Except- Reid is suddenly smiling to and letting go of Luke's hand, extending it to the other man. "Teddy Lincoln," he greets, and his voice pleasant. "It's been a long time; how have you been?"

"Good," Teddy answers. "Most people call me Theo, now. Look at you, finally, gotten over your shyness. I heard about Angus. I know you left on bad terms with him, and I'm sorry you have to deal with all this now."

"Shyness," Luke repeats, quietly, trying to figure everything out.

"Teddy, this is Luke Snyder; we're together," Reid says, moving them out of the line.

"Nice to meet you," Teddy says, extending his hand. Before Luke can say anything, he continues, "Oh, yeah. This little one, I sometimes wondered if he actually had the ability to talk. I'd bring pizza over every Saturday, and he'd always get to the door before Angus could. He'd stand there and wave at me, but no matter what I said, he'd never answer. Finally, I started bribing him with a slice of chocolate pizza, but even then, it'd be one syllable, and he'd hardly look at me."

"Really," Luke says, looking over at Reid in awe. "I always thought he gave his unsolicited, too-blunt opinion of everything, even when he was a kid."

"Eh, I always knew he was a smart kid, going places, but no, if he did that, it was only to Angus." To Reid, he says, "Heard you're an honest-to-God brain surgeon, now."

"One of the best. What about you?"

"I came back after college; this place and three others are mine, now. Oh, I married Sally Jackson. We have three kids," he says, digging out his phone to show them pictures. "My oldest, Teddy, is the boy of the family, and he's a computer geek. Wants to test out and do I.T. My middle, Leah, is an artist; the cops all know her by her bright pink-blue hair. And Tammie, I think she might be my heiress to the family business."

Reid gives a genuine smile. "I'm glad you're doing well," he says.

Luke would like things to start making sense, now.

"So, Luke, what do you do?"

"I run a charitable foundation that mainly specialises in helping sick children," he answers, withdrawing his business card. "We're also fairly big on QUILTBAG causes."

Taking it, Teddy smiles and asks, "Your usual, Reid?"

"Please."

"I'm assuming your boyfriend isn't the garbage disposal you are. What would you like, Luke?"

"Just a small pepperoni, please," he answers, wondering what Reid's usual is. He realises, every time they've ordered pizza, Reid's had him decide on the toppings; from what he can tell, it's the same when Reid orders with Katie.

"I'll bring it out shortly," Teddy says, reaching over to squeeze Reid's shoulder.

…

Once they've sat down, Luke says, "So, uh, what's he to you?"

"He was a delivery boy when I was a kid," Reid answers. "A few years older than me. He started coming when I was nine."

"Nine," Luke repeats, remembering Reid telling him that's how old he was when he realised he was gay. "Oh."

"Yeah," Reid says. "I talked to the other deliverers, but when I opened the door that day, I just stood there. He was always talking about the day he'd be able to work here full-time. I remember, once, I was sitting in the park, staring up at a nearby plane. I was thinking of being anywhere else, away from Angus. He was with a girlfriend, and they saw me. I guess he thought I had flyboy dreams. He picked me up and 'flew' me around," he says, shaking his head.

"Wow," Luke says. "I can't really imagine that."

Shrugging, Reid says, "After I got over the fear and indignation, it's a nice memory."

He almost repeats that he doesn't know very much about Reid. Reid says he knows the important parts, but he's not sure he does. Reid is relentlessly devoted to medicine, honest to a fault 99.9% of the time, and he loves food of almost any kind. Luke knows which sports teams he likes and hates. Luke knows Reid loves him and some of what Reid likes in bed.

Reid hates his uncle. Reid is disdainful of Luke's social class. Reid had his first real crush at age nine.

All these are facts, just like the facts he knew about Noah. He thought he knew Noah, too. He does know Noah, and it's the knowledge that made him realise he wasn't in love anymore. He's sure he was, at some point, but he sometimes wonders if Noah really felt the same way. That's something he definitely should know, should have known, should be able to look back and say, 'Yeah, he did,' or, 'No, he didn't, and some part of me knew, but I was stupid.'

"Here you go," Teddy says, appearing.

Luke, bizarrely, has the urge to cross himself. "What is that," he inquires, trying not to discreetly scoot away. Recalling the old movies Noah had him watch, he tries to recall the movement of Catholic characters. Which hand did they use? They started by putting two fingers against their forehead, right? Was it the chest or stomach they touched, next?

Has he ever seen Bob or Kim cross themselves? There has to be some Catholic in Oakdale he can call.

"Our ultra-supreme," Teddy answers, giving him an amused look. "Even the potheads were afraid of it; technically, it went off the menu a month or two after we started it, but Reid cried when I tried to explain that, and I- just couldn't do that to him. My dad charged Angus for a regular supreme, and I was in charge of making this every Saturday."

"And, you can find this other places," Luke says, seeing Reid has already finished off two slices.

"Not as good as here," Reid mutters, starting on another slice. "Can I have another to go?"

"I already have it waiting in a box."

"You ate- Really?"

Reid shrugs. "When I was in college, Doogie mostly broke me of the habit. I only have it on special occasions."

"Right," Luke says, unsure how to feel about the mention of Chris. He knows the history between them, the history Bob, Kim, Katie, and everyone else doesn't. He has little in the way of kind feelings towards Chris as a result. "Uh, Mr Lincoln, would you like to join us? And protect me from when that thing becomes sentient?"

Laughing, Teddy does, saying, "Call me Teddy. So, any kids?"

"My roommate has an eight month old named Jacob, and Luke has an ungodly amount of siblings, some of which he's helping raise."

They talk, and Luke finds himself relaxing. Teddy, unfortunately, doesn't have any truly embarrassing childhood stories to tell about Reid, but he does tell enough to paint Luke an even clearer picture. Reid was a smart kid, a little shy, and Angus had no patience for him. Neither, it seems, did anyone else. Either Reid annoyed them with his precociousness or they didn't have the time to try to coax out the introverted kid.

He sees why Reid has a lasting fondness for Teddy. Teddy did make Reid's life better, as much as he could.

When it's time to go, after Reid has eaten the monstrosity and three of Luke's slices, Reid starts to withdraw his wallet, but Teddy reaches over and stops him. "It's on the house. It's good to see you again, Reid. And it's nice to meet you, Luke. I never saw him happy until now, which I'm guessing you have a lot to do with; that's worth the cost."

…

After they leave, Luke stops Reid, who's carrying the takeout box. He kisses him, tracing Reid's cheek with one hand while the other plays with Reid's curls. "I love you," he says, softly. "And I'm glad you're happy, too."

In response, Reid gives him one of those soft looks that Luke still has a bit of trouble believing is directed at him. "I love you, too," he says. "After we put the pizza up, do you want to go to the park next and meet some old Ukrainians?"

"Sure," he answers, grinning.

"Don't be insulted if they completely ignore you," Reid says. "It took me giving them my peanut butter sandwich, and then, winning three games before they started to truly acknowledge my presence."

…

At the park, Reid sits down in front of Taras Shevchenko, who adjusts the timer.

"Does the blond speak Russian?"

"No," Reid answers in English as he makes the first move on the board. "His name is Luke Snyder, and he doesn't have much interest in chess, either."

"There's gossip," Taras continues in Russian, countering the move. "What's this man's full name?"

"Luciano Eduardo Snyder," he answers, making another move.

"Italian name," Taras mutters. "You know where the Irish and the Italians differ?"

"Not particularly," Reid answers, making his last move. "Checkmate."

"Did you just-"

Waving Luke's surprise off, Reid says, "Tell me."

"It has to do with love."

"Right," Reid says, rolling his eyes. "Good day, Taras."

He stands up and reaches out for Luke. Once he starts to lead him away, however, Taras speaks up, in English, "What do you call this man when no one's listening?"

Without hesitation, he answers.

"You shouldn't use such a sentiment if you can't look him in the eye and say it in his tongue," Taras says, in English. "And he can find a language dictionary, easily enough."

Noah Mayer flashes through his head. "And if I'm not his," Reid says, in Russian, "he doesn't have to feel guilty about not being mine."

"What was that about," Luke inquires, warily, as they walk away.

"I told him that I love you and hope to spend the rest of my life with you," he answers.

"Then- what was that about you not saying in it English and me looking it up?"

"Taras is an ass," Reid says, simply. "The words meant more to him in Russian than they do in English."

"Oh," Luke says. "So, you won in less than ten moves."

"Impressed?"

Luke kisses him, and he goes to sit down in front of Ivan Yavorsky.

"I never liked your uncle," Ivan informs him. "Who is this?"

"Luke Snyder," he introduces. "We're together."

Ivan shakes Luke's hand and introduces himself. "He's brilliant, this man, but chess isn't his calling. What about you?"

"I can sometimes beat my little sister," Luke offers. "I'm not completely sure she doesn't occasionally let me, but otherwise," he shrugs.

"I might like this one," Ivan declares. "Do you speak Ukrainian?"

"No, sir."

"Have Oliver teach you that before anything else. The most superior language, yes?"

"Okay," Luke agrees. "I was wondering: Do you have any good stories about him as a kid?"

"Ah, yes," Ivan says, and Reid sighs. "Pull up chair. I'll tell you about the first time Oliver truly defied his jackass uncle; he was eleven and…"

…

Luke is starting to understand what Reid meant when he said he felt like he was crawling out of his skin.

"Thank you," he murmurs, kissing Reid's cheek and going down to his chest. "For showing me a part of who you are today."

"Well, technically-"

"Reid, don't ruin it," he orders. Sighing, he says, "Saying that- for a long time, Noah never really let me in. And I don't blame him for that, but it's nice that you are."

Reid sighs, but before Luke can fully panic, he feels Reid's hand in his hair. "I'm glad you're here. Thank you."

He takes a breath and continues kissing downward.

Self-esteem has always been a problem, he knows. Reid's been wrong before, and how he's handled it has varied. He's so sure of his feelings towards Luke, but what's going to happen when he realises how deep said self-esteem issues go?

Luke has always tried never to let Reid see his insecurities, at first, out of self-preservation, and then, out of a desire to continuing impressing him. Granted, he's failed occasionally, but everything's been presented as about Noah or his conflicted feelings or the insane circumstances of Oakdale.

Noah's gone, they've had sex, and it comes down to: Brain surgeon, chess master, brutally honest man is unlikely to find what he truly wants in the binge drinker who got kicked out of college, stayed too long in a relationship that wasn't working, and wants more emotional reassurance than he usually gets.

Reid removes his hand before Luke gets down as low as he wants.

"More pleasant associations?"

"I just can't get enough of you, lately," he answers, honestly, urging Reid's hands back into his hair. "Wish I hadn't waited so long."

In response, Reid tugs, and Luke takes that as encouragement to resume his path down Reid's body.

…

Once they're back in Oakdale and the money's signed over, Reid gives the timer to Jacob to play with.

"I know about that boy," Angus's voice says, filling the room.

Jumping up, his medical journal flying, Reid quickly grabs the timer, causing Jacob to howl. Once he settles Jacob down, he listens to the recording.

Sighing, he leans back.

How long had Taras set the timer for? 'There's gossip,' he'd said.

Absently, Reid fiddles with the timer, thinking about the exchange about Irish, Italians, and love as he tries to recall the number. It could've just been Taras at times philosophical personality, or it could be a coded reference to something.

Angus recorded the conversation.

That's curious, but not truly surprising. He stopped trying to understand his uncle a long time ago.

He withdraws the chess piece as he thinks.

Snyder isn't an Italian name, pops into his head.

"Sixteen minutes, the son of the bitch," he mutters.

Looking over, he's glad to see Jacob is paying no attention, busy playing with a rattle.

…

Looking up from the paperwork he's doing, Luke smiles and gets up to kiss Reid. "Hey."

He'd meant the kiss to be brief and chaste, but by the time Reid pulls away, he only just manages to keep himself from whimpering. "Wow," he manages. Letting his hand start to wander lower, he asks, "What's the plan, Doctor Oliver?"

Catching the hands, Reid sighs. "Believe me, I wish it were more exciting than it was. I've learned some more about Angus. I need to go see someone he may have talked to."

"Okay, do you want me to go with you? I can-"

"Luke, it's bad dad."

That startles him, and he finds him saying, "Um? Very funny?"

"Very serious," Reid corrects, and his eyes and face hold no trace of anything resembling sarcasm or joking.

"Sit down," he says, "and explain."

"I hope I'm wrong," Reid says once they sit. "The timer Angus left me was specially designed to do audio recordings. He recorded the last conversation we had with one another. Some of that conversation involved my feelings towards you."

"Okay," he says, still utterly confused.

"Some of the things Taras did and said when I talked to him that day- I think he might have been trying to drop hints about something. Which sounds crazy, I admit, but still not as crazy as some of the stuff that's happened in this village of the criminally insane."

"I'm not seeing where ba- Damian comes into all."

"He set the timer for sixteen minutes. One of the things Angus pointed out was our sixteen-year-old age difference. He said you had an Italian name. Luke Snyder isn't. Luciano Grimaldi is."

"You hope you're wrong, but you don't think you are."

He wants to ask why Damian would do such a thing, but he already has some idea of the answer.

Damian kidnapped him more than once. He tried to force a relationship with his mother more than once. He gave him a car and a large part of his inheritance. He got close to Noah. He helped him get Reid, too, in more ways than one, though, that thought is too confusing and disturbing for him to try to go down.

He doesn't remember the hit-and-run, but he watched some security tapes of the incident. Damian carried him to the hospital. The doctor told him that a nurse had found his mom's name and cell phone number on a piece paper left on his stomach.

Now, somehow, Damian has made Reid a part of his schemes.

"I'm sorry."

"What?"

He looks up.

"Luke," Reid says, giving him a curious look and taking his hand, "how could you possibly be blaming yourself for this? Whatever this is. Whatever Angus was involved in, whether it involved bad dad or not, that's on him."

"My mother and I are probably the reason."

"That's on bad dad, then." Reaching over, he kisses him. "Don't be an idiot and blame yourself, Mister Snyder."

Ignoring the bundle of feeling that causes, he inquires, "So, what's the plan?"

"I'm going to talk to him," Reid says. "Whatever objections you have, this has to do with me and my uncle."

"I'm not objecting."

"Ah," Reid says.

Rolling his eyes, Luke smacks him. "Do you want me to come with you?"

"Honestly? No. I know how many unresolved issues you have with Damian, and unless you decide you want or need to see him, it's probably for the best that you don't. I can handle things on my own."

"I can't let you face him alone," he says, hating the thought.

"Why not?" Reaching over, Reid touches his cheek. "I don't need you to help fight all my battles, Luke. If bad dad is involved, we can figure something out together. If he isn't, I'll decide if I need to go from there or drop it."

"Damian- there's a reason you call him bad dad."

"The fact he's a criminal mastermind who had you carrying around pictures of a Huntington's-riddled corpse and almost landed your sister in the hospital of an overdose?" At Luke's look, Reid shifts. "Nurses gossip."

Luke remembers Damian manipulating Faith to try to get their mom. At the police station, he'd caught her taking some sort of pill, and after wearing himself out to keep alert for signs something might be wrong, he'd finally decided he couldn't take it anymore, made an excuse, and taken her to the hospital. She'd clung to her seat, and he'd locked her in the car while he found an orderly to drag her inside. Reid hadn't been anywhere within sight, but he supposes it only makes sense everyone but his own family would hear about the incident.

"Yes," he acknowledges, "but, Reid, he's the one who encouraged me to blackmail you. I mean, I made the choice, and I probably would have come to the decision on my own, but he deserves the same hatred, if not more, that you felt for me."

Reid shrugs. "I can handle it." Continuing, he says, stroking Luke's cheek, "I promise: if it turns out that he's involved, we'll figure it out. Together."

"Okay," Luke agrees, shakily. "Just, be careful. Call me as soon as you get there and leave. And just- just remember Damian has manipulated a lot of people. Whatever he says, take it with a large grain."

"I'll be fine," Reid promises, leaning over to kiss him.

He tries to take comfort in the kiss. Reid, for good reason, doesn't want him to go, and if he's honest, he doesn't want to go, either.

The kiss is broken, and he groans.

Then, he realises Reid is sliding onto the floor and positioning himself in front him. "Think you can be quiet, Mister Snyder," Reid inquires, grinning as his fingers undo the buttons on Luke's jeans.

He brings one hand up to his mouth and the other grips the couch's armrest, hoping he doesn't end up hitting his head against the wall behind him.

…

"Good afternoon, Doctor Oliver," Damian says. "Is my son with you?"

"Luke Snyder is still in Oakdale," Reid answers, flatly. He watches Damian's face, sees he's wondering what Luke does and doesn't know, is wondering how to best proceed.

"My uncle left me a recording," Reid continues. "In in, we talked about Mister Snyder. He also left me an exorbitant amount of money, most of which went to the Snyder Foundation. The rest went to one of my teenage cousins and my uncle's lawyer. Are you somehow involved?"

Damian gives him a measuring look. "What does Luciano know about all this?"

"I'm not going to answer that."

"Oh, and why not?"

"This is involves me and my uncle. If he wants to, he can try to figure out his own family drama. If he doesn't, it's his call."

"Do you love my son?" Damian inquires, eyes boring into his.

Despite the discomfort and rising respect for the force he's starting to realise Damian Grimaldi truly is, he keeps his voice cool and steady as he answers, "I'm not going to answer that, either. Not to you."

"Yes," Damian answers. "I gave the money to Mr Oliver. He was quite sure you'd give most of it to Luciano. Or at least, to Luciano's foundation. He was right. But you're very different from the recording, Doctor Oliver."

"I'm also leaving," he says, starting to stand.

"What are you going to tell him?"

"None of your business," he answers.

Before he can get more than a step or two away, Damian says, voice raised slightly, "You said he was worth almost anything. Do you even know what that means?"

Sighing, Reid sits back down. The last thing he needs is the whole prison hearing about Luke. "Better than you do," he answers.

There's a flash of anger across Damian's face. "You're very lucky I'm in handcuffs, Dr Oliver."

"Wouldn't be the first time I was punched over Mister Snyder," he answers, wryly. "No wonder it was easy for you to get used to Noah's role in his life."

That earns him a bewildered look.

He doesn't elaborate.

"Do you understand all consuming love, or not?"

"Better than you," Reid answers. "Your kind of love is selfish. It's arrogant and presumptuous. It hurts those you claim to love."

"And you'd just let my son go if he decided he didn't want you?"

"I'd be wary," Reid answers. "But yes, if everything I saw pointed to him genuinely being happy without me, I'd put on my big boy pants and let him have that. Someone being with me due to manipulation can't be rationalised and justified away."

"Obviously, it can."

Reid suddenly experiences a sinking feeling in his stomach. "How's that?"

Damian looks at him for a long moment. "I suppose," he says, thoughtfully, "you'd have no reason to look into things. Well, let me tell you, Dr Oliver, Noah Mayer is out of Oakdale because he was causing my son too much confusion and pain. I like Noah, but he has so many demons. He couldn't commit fully to Luciano. But my son could commit fully to you, if given the chance, if Noah were no longer there for him to fall back on. But if Noah had stayed, do you honestly think you would have lasted long with Luciano? Noah is to my son what Lily is to me."

After processing that, he says, feeling disconnected from his body, "You thought I knew what you'd done and was taking advantage of that. And that's the guy you were content to let be in the same room as the same son you claim to love, never mind in a relationship with him."

"Just like his mother, my son attracts men with deep problems," Damian answers. "Kevin Davis was a deeply unhappy boy; that Reg character had problems with drugs; Noah will always struggle between who he wants to be and his love and loathing of his own father, and you are a sarcastic, bitter man who has limited empathy. However, you know you love him and are willing to, by your own admission, do almost anything for him."

"I know nothing of film making. What was I supposed to see? I never cared for most of his work that Luke showed me, but I'm sure as hell not a talent agent."

"It was my mistake," Damian answers with a shrug. "You're right; you'd have no reason to see anything suspicious, but with your intelligence and disdain for Noah, I erroneously believed you would. You'd do research, and it'd come down to a choice between humiliating Noah with the knowledge, thus, driving him back into Luciano's arms, or keeping quiet, letting him go, and ending up with my son."

"What were you hoping to accomplish with this visit, Mr Grimaldi? We both know you were hoping it would drive Luke to visit. Possibly me, as well. Otherwise, though, what's the objective?"

"I want to see my son," Damian agrees. "And I wanted to see you and him in the same room together. So that I could see if I made the right choice."

"You didn't," Reid snaps. "You don't need him here to get the answer to that. Goodbye."

"What will you tell him?"

Reid walks away without answering, and this time, Damian lets him.

…

Back in Oakdale, Reid doesn't call Luke right away.

He remembers the start of their sexual relationship, Luke sinking down to his knees and looking up with a mixture of determination and vulnerability. Shortly after, he'd found himself on his bed, Luke sliding into him. He remembers the first time he was inside Luke, as well as all the other firsts.

"Come on, Oliver," he mutters, "some part of you knew."

When Luke was still hung up on Noah, Reid was desperate for sex with him. If all he was going to get was some physical action, he wanted something deeper than kisses. When Luke made it clear he'd give them a real chance, he would have dealt with only his hand providing him action, no matter how long it took.

He wishes he knew himself better. He wishes he hadn't been so desperate, had stopped to think and remember that, aside from one brief period in his life that he still views with self-loathing, sex for him isn't easily detangled from affection and emotional connection. Most of his relationships never lasted long, but he didn't regret them or the sex.

Now, he's in love, he knows what sex with the man he loves is like, and disturbingly, he's been considering not telling Luke what Damian said.

Which isn't going to happen; no matter how badly it screws him up, the thought of manipulating someone in such a way makes him sick to his stomach.

When he was growing up, he once witnessed two girls who'd been best friends for several years break up, for lack of a better term. One of them yelled at the other over something, and despite her trying to apologise, the other girl was willing to throw away the several years of friendship. The girl who had yelled tried begging, blackmail, and reasoning when the apology didn't work. Finally, she gave up, and as far as he knows, they never had any future contact.

Some part of him had been tempted to tell the one who yelled that, if her former friend couldn't forgive one bad day, one moment of ugliness, she wasn't worth it.

There's a line, he decided long ago. Everyone is screwed up in some way or another, and when it comes to important relationships, if a person can't deal with someone's non-abusive issues and occasional screw-ups, they didn't deserve the person or the relationship.

Sighing, he calls and leaves a message on Luke's voicemail.

…

"How long have you been back," Luke inquires, neutrally, taking in Reid's guarded look.

If Damian has done something to screw this up, Luke is going to kill him.

As soon as the thought hits, he realises he has no idea how to go about doing such a thing, but he will do something. Damian's gotten away with so much, and depriving Luke of what might be the love of his life isn't going to be one of them.

He is, the annoying voice in his head starts, and Luke tells it to shut up. He thought the same thing about Kevin and Noah. He hopes Reid will be, but if he's not- Well, depending on what's to blame, he can try to move on. If it's Damian, he's rich, he can probably find a way to track down Zac and Zoe. He wouldn't give her a baby, but as long as Noah is safe from their clutches, they can probably work together.

Okay, the sane part of him says, you're not going to do anything that crazy and evil. Now, just find out if there's an actual problem before freaking out.

"Where'd you go," Reid asks, looking at him curiously.

That gives him hope, and he reaches over to kiss him. "You don't look happy. I was just having homicidal thoughts towards Damian."

Reid sighs. "Hang on to them. Sit down."

Right, he thinks, complying. The Zs it is.

You're not working with someone who tried to rape you, or someone who killed a cop and almost killed Noah, the sane part snaps.

"It was bad dad," Reid says, heavily. "He wanted to make sure the money, or most of it, at least, was given to you. I imagine he knew you wouldn't have accepted it if you knew where it came from."

"Okay, well, it's not something I can really to do anything about," Luke says, trying to repress the anger. It's for a good cause, he tells himself. Sick little kids will benefit. People like him and Noah and Red will benefit. Even if it originally came from Damian, Reid, not knowing, gave it to the foundation out of love for Luke and respect for what the foundation does.

"He's responsible for Noah's big break, too," Reid says.

He looks at him in confusion, and Reid explains, "He's responsible for Noah going to L.A. I didn't know until he told me. But he thought I did. He thought I kept quiet so that I'd end up with you."

"And how did he expect you to know," Luke asks, feeling there's a piece missing. "How bad is his Intel, anyway? You're a brain surgeon. How are you supposed to be able to guess that the grant Noah got had Damian's fingerprints on it?"

Sighing, he leans back. "Poor Noah," he continues, wondering if there's anything that can curb Damian's power. "Should I tell him? I mean, he's good at what he does, Reid, and you wouldn't believe how hard he's worked his whole life. If I tell him, he's probably going to sabotage himself. But if I don't tell him, and he finds out, it's probably going to be worse."

Reid sighs, and he glances over. "This isn't about me wanting Noah, Reid," he says, exasperated. "Damian's manipulated him, and no deserves that."

"This wasn't the reaction I expected," Reid says, quietly.

Thrown, he looks over. "Um, good or bad?"

"I expected to have to try to prove to you that I didn't know and take advantage of Damian's machinations."

"Why," he asks, feeling even more confused than ever and slightly hurt. "Obviously, you wouldn't do something like that."

Reid shrugs. "If you can accuse me of deliberately screwing up Noah's eyesight, it's not that big of a leap to think I'd-"

"Reid-" Groaning, he mutters, "Dammit. Look, Reid, you have no idea how sorry I am about that. I'm so sorry."

"I don't hold a grudge," Reid says, scooting over and putting an arm around him.

"I know it's my fault," he says, relaxing into the touch. "But I want you to know, I trust you. I know what type of man you are. I was wrong to say that, and some part of me knew I was wrong. But I was scared and confused and I didn't know how to handle anything. The funny thing," he continues, "is that I couldn't even figure out why someone like you would be interested in someone like me. So, naturally, I accused you of wanting me so bad that you'd give up everything, including your career. That you'd hurt someone, possibly even kill them, for me."

"Well," Reid answers, "I did give up my practise in Dallas for you. I was willing to give up the neurowing. And if it came down to it, you're one of the people I would hurt for. Kill to protect. But I promise you, if you didn't want me, I wouldn't try to change that."

Turning, he puts his hand on Reid's cheek. "Reid, I promise you, you don't have to worry about me trusting you. I do."

They kiss, and when they break apart Reid says. "I'm glad. Unfortunately, I don't know what you should or shouldn't do about Noah."

Sitting back, he takes Reid's hand. "Reid, not that I'm doubting you, but- Damian can bullshit the best of people. What if he was lying about Noah's grant?"

"Then, he's unnervingly convincing. What are you considering doing, Luke?"

…

A little over a month later, they both take some time off.

"Luke, I don't like this," his dad tells him. "Let me go-"

"No," he says. Then, he says, "I know you don't like this, and I understand. Dad, I don't want to do this. But he used Reid to manipulate me, and he might have used Noah to manipulate both of us. I can't let him keep doing things like that. And I don't want you to reschedule your plans with Natalie; she needs to spend some quality time with you."

"I know," his dad says. "Listen, I understand more than most what you're feeling. Believe that. I just don't want you getting hurt further, Luke."

"I'll try not to, but I'm not going to ignore the feeling that I need to do this."

There's a sigh, and he looks over, guilt coursing. However, his dad shakes his head and puts his hand on his neck. "I'm proud of you, kid. Not for this, I still miss you'd change your mind, but for how you've grown lately. I know it hasn't been easy, and I wish you haven't been through so much. Here you are, though, a good man."

"I'm just trying to be a sane, sober one, right now," he answers, feeling so unworthy it's almost like he's suffocating. "I blackmailed Reid into coming here, you know. We haven't really talked about that."

"I can't say I approve, but I can say I understand," his dad says, giving him a sad smile. "You're a Snyder and a Walsh, son. Family is everything. The difference between us and Damian is that, we may fight for those we love, but when it's time to let go, we do."

"Thanks, Dad," he says, leaning forward and hugging him, feeling a kiss in his hair. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

The blood of Damian Grimaldi runs in his veins, but he refuses to let that matter. His mother is adopted, and technically, all his siblings are half rather than full. Lucinda is his grandmother, Holden is his father, and his siblings are his brothers and sisters. Reid is hopefully more than just a boyfriend, but if he's not, Luke will accept that.

He just won't accept Damian being the reason Reid isn't.

…

He shivers when they get to the prison, and Reid reaches over, fingers skimming gently over his hand.

Inside, Damian smiles, softly, and it makes his blood boil. "Luciano-"

"You've blown all of your chances, Damian," he interrupts. "I'm here because I want to know the truth about whether you were responsible for Noah's grant. You can tell me, or you can't. I'm not making any deals. If you don't tell me, I'll hire an investigator."

"You're very quiet, Dr Oliver," Damian notes.

"Yeah, I'm mostly here for the food I've been promised," Reid says, giving a small wave. "They have a great pizzeria about thirty miles from here. I'd offer to bring you something, but I've lost count of the number of times I've been instructed by various people not to taunt the big, bad, Italian mob boss bio dad."

"I think they have a nun who volunteers here," Luke mutters. "I'll see if she'll teach me how to properly cross myself."

At Damian's look, he remembers where exactly they are. "It's none of your business. Are you going to answer me or not, Damian?"

"Doctor Oliver, there's a vending machine in the lobby. Why don't you get Luciano something to drink?"

Before he can protest, Reid touches him. "You haven't had anything for almost an hour," he says, quietly. "That's not good for your kidney. Will you be okay?"

Sighing, he nods, briefly squeezing Reid's hand. "If they have it, I want tea instead of water."

Once Reid's gone, Damian comments, "He truly loves you."

"I'm not talking about that."

"Have you heard the recording of him and his uncle, Luciano?"

"Luke," he corrects. "Just answer my question, Damian, or refuse to."

"Did you even ask to?"

He starts to stand, and Damian says, "No. I had nothing to do with Noah leaving. I wanted to see how Dr Oliver would react if he believed I had."

That makes more sense to him, but he knows he can't safely believe Damian. Even his instincts in this matter can't be fully trusted.

"You should listen to the recording, Luciano."

"He already knows the gist of it," Reid says, reappearing. He ignores Luke's look at the bundle of snacks he's carrying around.

"This is why that cop thought you were a pothead," he mutters, managing to extract the tea.

"That cop was an-"

"It's my fault, for not taking out all but the money needed for the drink," he decides, aloud. "I need to start doing that."

"Seeing as how this is a prison, I probably shouldn't be admitting this, but do you honestly think I never learnt how to steal from a vending machine? Naivety, you still have it in spades."

As he starts to stand up, Damian says, "I have no doubt you've given Luke an accurate summary of the conversation, Dr Oliver, but we both know how easy it is to generalise and minimise when summaries are employed."

"I've gotten my answer," he tells Reid. "Let's go."

"I assume you don't care about the words. Disregarding them, to cross yourself, you bring the fingers on your right hand, the pointer, tall finger, and thumb, to your forehead, near your eyebrows, followed by the sternum, then, your left shoulder, and finally, your right. Or at least, that's how Catholics do it," Damian says. Then, he continues, "Luciano, whether you like it or not, I will always be your father, and I will always love you."

Turning back, he shakes his head. "Thank you for the instructions. People who love don't do the things you do. You're nothing to me, Damian, and whether you like it or not, you never will be."

He leads Reid out.

…

Logically, he knows he still has his bones, but he's starting to understand what it means when people say they feel boneless.

Reid runs fingers down his back, and he snuggles closer, the heat and gentle pressure causing him to go deeper into a daze. "You know," he hears, "you can listen to the tape."

"Don't need to," he answers. "I trust you. It's between you and your uncle. If you ever want me to, that's fine, but you don't need to. And I don't need to in order to feel secure or valued."

"Do you think he was telling the truth?"

"Yeah," he answers. "I'm still going to hire an investigator, but I have a feeling he told the truth, this time."

"Explain to me why we came if you've always planned on hiring someone."

"I don't know; I can't explain it," he answers.

"That's okay," Reid says, and he sounds like he might just understand.

Then, Reid rolls them over so that he's on top of Luke, and Luke feels his breath leave him as Reid looks down with soft, piercing eyes. "Tell me, Mister Snyder, why am I here?"

As always, he feels a shiver when Reid does this. When Reid came back from his solo visit to Damian, he hadn't reacted to Luke's statement of trying to figure out why someone like Reid wanted someone like him. Later, though, he'd told Luke exactly why he wanted him and had refused to go further than kissing and maddening fingers on the skin until Luke had repeated the words with as much belief as could be mustered.

"Aside from the pizza abomination, you're here because love me," he answers, hoping this will be the end. It's not Reid's responsibility to try to drive his insecurities away.

He knows how Reid would react if he said that aloud, and he can't blame him.

The truth is, he's afraid of truly believing, and then, having that belief shatter. Not because he doesn't trust Reid, but because his life has been one heartbreak after another. He tries not to let it infect his thought and optimism, but facts are facts. Some people aren't destined for happy endings, and if he ends up being one of them, he's not going to be surprised.

His answer earns him a kiss, but Reid still refuses to go further. "And why was so interested in you before I fell in love?"

"Before or after you stopped hating me?"

That earns him a pinch. "You know the answer," Reid murmurs, leaning down to suck a mark on his neck.

Through the haze of pleasure, he gasps. "B-because, I'm a smart, determined guy who fights for what I believe in and tries to go the extra mile for the people I love."

"What else?"

"That's, ah, not enough?"

That earns him a gentle nip.

"I make you hot," he says, trying to keep his eyes open against the pleasure and Reid's relentless eyes, holding his. "And safe and happy. Oh, God. Just like you make me feel. Reid, please, want you so bad. I know you're lucky to have me, just like I'm lucky to have you. Can we both get lucky, now, Dr Oliver?"

Thankfully, that satisfies Reid.

…

Damian sits down in from of his visitor. "I told you," he says, in Italian, his tone mild. "Reid Oliver is who we must focus on, now."

"Noah hasn't been happy, lately. I can tell."

"I'm sorry about that," Damian says, sincerely, "but in all honesty, it doesn't matter. You know what's at stake."

"Yes," his visitor answers, unhappily, "I do. What do we need to do about this doctor, Reid Oliver?"


End file.
